


Lady Be Good

by A_Little_Boosh_Maid



Series: Zooniverse Nights [3]
Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Clubbing, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Friendship/Love, M/M, Season/Series 01, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-27 02:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15676095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Little_Boosh_Maid/pseuds/A_Little_Boosh_Maid
Summary: In which Howard and Vince go on the town, and Howard meets a lovely lady.





	Lady Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I see you falling  
> I get down on my knees and pray  
> I'm waiting for that final moment  
> You say the words that I can't say
> 
> Bizarre Love Triangle – New Order

Howard was alone in a Camden nightclub. Yeah, he was surprised about it too. The part that wasn't surprising was that it was all Vince's idea. Who else could induce Howard to do something so antithetical to his nature, so against his own inclinations?

Vince had pleaded with Howard to come clubbing with him, saying he had absolutely nobody to go with, and he'd asked all his other friends, and they were busy, and then he'd asked friends of friends, then distant acquaintances, and a couple of people he had passed in the street, and finally people he didn't like one bit that he planned to ditch at the first opportunity, but they passed him up too. So Howard really was his last resort and he was proper desperate.

None of this was very flattering to Howard. Vince only rarely got Howard to do what he wanted by outright flattering him: what he usually did was make Howard feel needed. And once again he persuaded Howard that he was completely and utterly necessary to Vince, and that Vince would not make it through the night without Howard by his side. _That_ was the flattering part.

Which just makes you wonder how anyone ever pegged Vince as being thick.

Of course it didn't all go smoothly. Howard got ready in five minutes, and Vince gave a screech of horror at what he was wearing. Howard was dressed in his zoo uniform trousers and a particularly lumpy woollen jumper in a hideous shade of pea soup. He hadn't washed or combed his hair, probably for days, his nails were filthy, and he smelled strongly of zoo.

Vince told him that he could not be seen in public with someone who looked like Howard, and that not only would he never get in _Cheekbone_ again, he wouldn't even be permitted to _read_ the magazine. He would be blackballed from every club in London, and there was a chance he could be arrested for soliciting a vagrant. Howard remained oblivious to the implications of that last comment, as usual.

There were arguments, protests, refusals, a lot of angry words, and sulking, but Vince managed to prevail, at least to some extent. He forced Howard to clean himself up, use scented shower gel, put cologne on, scrub his nails, and brush his hair. He went through Howard's wardrobe, and found some slightly less disgusting clothes he could wear, including some horrible but at least clean jeans and an actually rather nice vintage jacket from Howard's jazz band days.

There was no time to style him and he still hadn't shaved, but Vince thought it was all about context, and with luck, in a dark club, Howard might pass as too rugged and masculine to bother with any nonsense like clothes, rather than passing as a confused homeless man who had fallen into a zoo enclosure and decided to live there as it was so warm and comfortable.

And Vince thought Howard looked sexy when he didn't shave – hopefully others would find his stubble equally irresistible (but not so much they jumped his bones: he wasn't putting in all this effort just so some randy tart could have her drunken wicked way with Howard the minute he turned his back). After all, Vince would have shagged Howard to bits even when he was a filthy stinking hot zookeepery mess, pea soup jumper and all. Nobody else deserved him, Vince was sure of that.

With all that to do, Vince hardly had time to get ready himself, and he decided he'd probably better pick something a bit more low-key than usual to wear so that he and Howard didn't look too weird together. It was back to the basics of just Topshop, flares, desert boots, only two layers of make-up, plain dark lipstick, mascara, discreet eye shadow, and light hairspray. For Vince, it was practically _au naturel_.

Once they got there, Vince abandoned Howard to hit the dance floor: it was Electro Night at the club, and Vince began languidly doing the hitch hike to "Bizarre Love Triangle". With his cool moves and crazy diamond glamour, Vince immediately made dozens of new friends, who bought him all the flirtinis he could handle (actually rather more than).

They had been there for over an hour, and Howard had been left alone at the bar, wondering why he had ever expected things might be different. He kept nursing his one drink, because a) the prices b) he wasn't much of a drinker, and c) d) e) and f) the prices!!!!

Howard didn't notice the woman standing next to him straight away because he was looking in the other direction. But when she ordered a white wine, she turned to him and gave a polite smile.

"You don't look as if you come here very often", she said kindly, as if she thought Howard might have wandered into the club by mistake.

"Uh no", said Howard. "I'm usually to be found in jazz clubs. Clubs pertaining to jazz. Are you aware of jazz music? The movement of jazz?".

"I'm afraid I don't know very much about it", she said frankly, "but I do enjoy going to Jazzercise – you know, where you exercise to jazz music".

Howard suddenly swivelled around as if the woman had only just now begun to exist.

"I love Jazzercise", he said. "I go to a Jazzercise studio just around the corner from here – Juiced on Jazz".

"It's only at my gym", the woman replied in a self-deprecating tone that meant she wasn't as serious about Jazzercise as Howard.

There was perhaps a moment when Howard could have invited her to join him at Juiced on Jazz some time, or she could have invited him to her gym under their bring-a-friend-for-free offer, but neither of them did, and the moment passed.

"I'm Laura, anyway", the woman said, holding out her hand. Howard took it hesitantly, as if she had suddenly given him a fresh mackerel. She had a nice hand; it was smooth and warm, and her handshake made you feel more confident than you did before.

"Laura, that's a lovely name", said Howard, in a manner which he hoped was charming, but was actually shy and awkward. "That's the name of a jazz song".

"Oh yes, I do know that one", she smiled. "And she was Petrarch's muse as well".

"You could never be a muse", said Howard, as if seeing her for the first time. She had a healthy, well-scrubbed look to her, and a very intelligent expression in her hazel eyes.

"Really? Why not?". She sounded interested rather than offended.

"Muses are cold and distant and mysterious", explained Howard. "And you're not. You're ... nice".

He knew it wasn't the right way to end the sentence, but he could hardly say she was warm and near and open. It sounded pornographic.

"That's very kind of you ... er ...?".

"Howard".

She repeated his name several times as if making sure she had heard it correctly. Howard guessed she was good at remembering people's names.

"Are you here on your own, Howard?", Laura asked with a slight note of concern.

"No, I came with someone but he's been over there all night". He waved vaguely at the dance floor as if to suggest Vince was a long way off, and not very important.

"Oh poor you", Laura smiled sympathetically. "He's just left you all alone, has he?".

"Pretty much", said Howard. "Are you here with friends?". Because Laura didn't look like she came to the club often herself – she looked like she'd be more comfortable going for very long walks in the countryside.

"No, I'm meant to be meeting someone – well, I suppose it was a sort of date, really", smiled Laura, "but he doesn't seem to be here yet".

Howard tried to think of something gallant to say, something very suave and sophisticated, yet also firm and reassuring.

"The man's a complete arse", he said savagely. "I'll murder him for you if you want".

"That's ... a very nice offer, but maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt", Laura replied. "He might just be running late. Let's postpone the murder for now". She gave Howard a conspiratorial little smile, as if they were sharing a very good joke together.

"I work in a zoo, it would be easy to dispose of the body", Howard went on helpfully.

"Are you really a zookeeper? How interesting", said Laura. "You're quite the man of action, aren't you, Howard?".

"Well, I recently returned from leading a polar expedition", said Howard modestly. For the past eight months he had been telling people he had just got back from leading a polar expedition, with the air of someone who hasn't had time to finish unpacking from it.

"Oh, now that's incredible", said Laura, looking suitably impressed. "But you can't drop that into the conversation and then start talking about something else – you have to let me buy you a drink so you can tell me all about it".

Howard agreed readily enough because a) it was a free drink b) he was longing to describe in great detail exactly how brave he'd been at the point of death and c) the prices! 

Laura bought them both drinks, and led him over to an alcove where there were sofas to sit on and little tables to drink at, around the corner from but in sight of the dance floor. She asked lots of questions with flattering interest, and gasped in all the right places, and said she'd never heard anything so exciting in all her life.

Howard managed to leave Vince out of the story altogether, only referring to the "team" he had been leading. He didn't tell Laura that at the point of almost certain death, he had desperately told his team that he loved them, and they had (eventually) said it back to him. He didn't think it would add anything of value to the narrative.

Laura told Howard she was planning a photographic safari in Tanzania: she loved wild animals and world travel and having adventures. She reluctantly admitted that she had had a few of her photos published in _Global Explorer_ magazine, and Howard suggested she write 'Laura: Photographer' on her business card.

"Laura – Colon Photographer!", shrieked Laura hysterically. "That's hilarious, Howard. You make me laugh".

In short, Howard could hardly believe how well everything was going with Laura. They had read many of the same books, and agreed on quite a few. Laura didn't know much about Danish cinema, but just a month ago she had attended a French film festival. As Howard had suspected, Laura was a keen weekend rambler, and last summer she had cycled from Land's End to John O'Groats to raise money for charity. Howard told her about the survey he was making of the fields and hedgerows of Surrey, and Laura suggested maybe he could move on to Kent when he'd finished.

Whenever Howard got shy and awkward, Laura encouraged him to continue, and if he said something embarrassing, she laughed as if he'd been extremely witty. If Howard couldn't think of anything to say, Laura asked intelligent questions, or told him something interesting about herself, and she was comforting when he had to confess that a particular situation hadn't gone very well.

Howard took a glance at Laura, and thought that she had a very nice smile: it wasn't a radiant sunshine smile like ... some people ... had, but it was warm and kind, and when she smiled she got two little pink spots high on her cheekbones. There was something very endearing about that.

Deep down, Howard knew he hadn't had a lot of success with women. Even deeper down, he knew he hadn't had _any_ success with women. But now he thought if perhaps he had met more women like Laura, he might have had just a tiny little bit more success. Women who were kind and sympathetic; who had nice eyes and smiles without being alarmingly beautiful; who helped you out in conversation rather than sneeringly let you flounder and sink unassisted.

He would never have the courage to ask Laura for her number, but she seemed like the sort of sensible woman who might just give Howard her number as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Howard would never have the courage to phone her, but he could keep the number and look at it sometimes, and it would be almost like asking her out.

There was a lull in the conversation, and then Laura nodded towards the dance floor.

"Is that your boyfriend over there?", she asked in a friendly way. "The dark-haired chap in the purple blouse?".

"What, Vince?", said Howard in shock. "He's only my mate that I came with. What made you think he's my boyfriend?".

"It's just that we've been sitting here talking for almost an hour now, and you haven't taken your eyes off him once".

And as she looked at Howard, Laura's bright, intelligent eyes were flooded with sudden understanding, and her kind, sympathetic face became even kinder and more sympathetic.

If Howard hadn't known better, he would have almost thought she felt sorry for him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a challenge to myself to write a female character who might be slightly tempting to Howard, without being either a threat to Vince or a female version of him – although like Vince, she is a people person and naturally cheerful. And Howard met so few nice people during the series that I felt like having someone be a bit kind to him for once.
> 
> I know New Order aren't electro, but the show always conflated electro with synth-pop and new wave. I saw Vince going to dance to their song as one of the little clues he gave Howard as to how he felt (which Howard remained oblivious to, like all the others). The hitch hike is a 1960s dance suitable for the King of the Mods, as well as a reference to The Hitcher.


End file.
